Night Three

The rest of the journey to the med lab was spent in relative silence, the only sounds their frantic footsteps echoing off slippery floors and their harried breaths as they fought to keep the oxygen in their lungs without slowing, without stopping.

The shouts of the guards were everywhere – the one that Minho had taken out must have had just enough time to shout off a warning, a location, because not even three hallways away Ada had heard the rush of movement that told her if they didn't move quick, they'd be screwed.

Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs the deeper into the bowels of the facility they got, and she tried without success to recognise any hallway, to gain any sense of where they were.

They slowed at last in front of a door, and one cursory glance at the surrounding exits told her this must have been the other side of the medical wing, the entrance they had been ushered past and not allowed into.

She hadn't questioned it at the time, had been completely oblivious to the red flags the facility had waved in her face.

Crawford pushed the door open a crack, just enough for her face to be visible, and there was barely a moment for the doctor on the other side to process her arrival before Thomas was bursting into the room, waving the gun around as if he had the slightest idea of how to wield it.

Ada watched him for a moment, baffled, before movement behind her spurred her forwards.

"Get back!" Thomas ordered, ushering the doctors into the corner of the room. They were stammering and cursing, voices falling all over each other, but Ada didn't bother trying to make out what they were saying as she scanned the room eagerly.

It was a relatively small space, lined with cabinets full of needles and glass shelves with various bottles on them. There was a curtain separating one section of the room from the other, right by the large window that she knew was one way and overlooked the larger medical suite they had all been examined in beforehand.

There were several scalpels sat unattended on the shelf right by her, and Ada reached forward to grab the largest one, her fingers itching for some sort of weapon.

It was a poor replacement for her dagger, but the cold of the metal against her palm was more than welcome and provided that blanket of security she had felt every time she felt the brush of her blade at her waist in the glade.

"Where is she?" Thomas demanded, looking angrier than she had ever seen him. "Where is she?!"

The doctor closest to them dropped his tray in fright as Thomas aimed the gun directly at him, glass shattering at their feet as liquid seeped into the ground. A fresh vial of blood cracked and spilled, an angry red blossom on the stone.

The doctor squeaked, barely hesitating before he pointed a shaking hand at the curtain. Ada moved towards it instantly, tearing the thin fabric back, eyes immediately landing on the still figure on the bed.

"Thomas," she waved him over frantically, already reaching to check Teresa's pulse, barely aware of Thomas thrusting the gun at Minho behind her. She let out a sigh of relief when her fingers were met with a strong rhythm.

"Get over!" Minho snapped, shoving the doctor towards the others. Ada glanced up briefly and spotted them all cowering in the corner, on their knees, before she turned back to Teresa. She was completely unconscious, despite the blaring of the siren still screaming its vengeful tune. "Get down!"

"Teresa," Thomas murmured, voice soft and gentle as he cupped her face.

Ada had the sudden and rather revolting feeling that she was interrupting something, but didn't move away as she reached down to shake the other girl's shoulder. "Wake up sunshine," she said hurriedly, flicking the skin exposed by her white tank top. "We gotta go."

Something moved out of the corner of her eye, and Minho's sharp voice boomed throughout the room once more. "Get down!"

"Damnit Teresa, wake up!" Ada snapped, harsher than intended, but she was saved from feeling any remorse when Teresa began to stir.

"Thomas?" She murmured, voice hazy and quiet, large eyes slowly blinking open.

Ada didn't linger at her side any longer, instead moving back into the main body of the room, scanning the door to see if there was any way they could lock it. There wasn't.

Frypan was holding it closed, muscles bunching with effort and fear, but he moved over silently as she inspected the handle. There was nothing to tie it to using some cloth, like she had with the door in the bunks – anyone could walk in.

"Hands," Newt demanded, grabbing a roll of bandages from the table. "Give me your hands, now!"

"Just do what he says!" Frypan snapped.

"Give me your hands!" Newt didn't wait for their permission, grabbing the wrists of the doctor closest to him and binding them tightly together with the thick material. He tore the strip off with his teeth, moving immediately onto the next one, and there was a certain fierce hatred and anger on his face that she hadn't seen from him in an incredibly long time.

"You're never gonna get away with this," Crawford snapped, but the waver in her voice belied her fear.

"Shut up," Ada said, completely unimpressed, raising the scalpel threateningly. She gestured to Newt when he was done, and he tossed her the rest of the bandages. She tucked them into her pocket next to the wooden bird.

"Guys?!" Frypan shouted, face pressed up against the glass in the door. "They're coming! Where do we go?!"

Ada glanced around the tiny space, seeing absolutely no way out other than the window, but glass like that was no doubt built to withstand a bullet. They needed to block the door, but there was nothing to use other than their own bodies.

"Frypan, Ada, move!" Newt instructed, and Ada didn't hesitate to comply, leading Frypan backwards by the wrist as Newt grabbed the edges of the steel table, flipping it on its side.

The crash was deafening, glass shattering against the wall and grinding under steel as he shoved it against the door. It fit perfectly in the gap between the entrance and the other table, acting as a perfect barrier.

Newt looked at Ada with a proud grin before moving back into the main room, right as the door slammed against the table. It barely opened more than three inches, but the sound of it bashing against its obstacle had Ada reaching up to cover her ears. That combined with the ongoing siren was causing a steady pounding to start up right between her eyes, and she wanted to kill them all for that fact alone.

"Get back! Get back!" Minho yelled, gun raised and aimed at the door, and Ada moved instantly to slot herself between his back and the bed, eyes fixed on the window.

"They've got the door barricaded, send back up!" One of the guards yelled, trying to squeeze his weapon through the gap.

"We are absolutely fucked if any more of them show up," Ada said needlessly, the scalpel suddenly feeling wildly ineffective in her grasp.

"Yeah, we gotta get out of here," Minho said anxiously, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Where do we go?!" Frypan asked.

Ada shuffled over to the windows, hands pressing against the glass. It was cool under her fingers, and she pressed her face against it in order to look down at the frame, trying to get a sense of how thick it was. "Fuck those guns for not actually having bullets in them," she muttered, glancing around for anything they could use.

"Any bright ideas?" Thomas asked, one arm wrapped around Teresa's waist to keep her upright. The oxygen tube was gone from her nose now, but she looked like she was one step away from passing out, and as much as Ada liked the girl the last thing they needed was one of them suddenly falling unconscious.

"The glass!" She yelled, eyes scanning the room for anything they could use to break it. "It's thick, but if we bash it hard enough then it should shatter."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then I don't know, Thomas, but I hope you enjoy being strung up and harvested because I don't see you coming up with any better ideas!"

He grumbled something under his breath and grabbed the stool at his side, waving her away from the window. "Everyone stand back!" He swung it as hard as possible at the glass, but the stool simply bounced back, not even leaving behind a crack. "Come on..." He mumbled, doing it again.

"Newt, help, help, help!"

Newt squeezed her arm as he moved past her, silently urging her back towards Minho, and grabbed another stool from the nearby desk. He lifted it effortlessly, slamming it down as hard as physically possible. The glass shattered with a violent crack, shards exploding into the room.

Ada threw her arms up in front of her face, narrowly missing taking her own eye out with the scalpel, wincing as small cuts opened up on her skin.

Minho swore violently at her side, shaking out his arm.

"Come on, come on!" Janson's voice came from the doorway, and a fissure of panic slithered down Ada's spine, spurring her forward as she grabbed a blanket from Teresa's bed and tossed it over the bottom of the sill.

"Time to go," she said quickly, shoving Thomas forward and towards the exit. He leapt through the gap, quickly followed by Teresa and Newt, who reached back to help her through. His hands were warm and trembling on her waist as he lowered her back to the ground, his fingers reaching mindlessly to tangle with hers as he tugged her along through the med suite, trying to navigate the space through the dark.

Thomas had the gun again when he passed them, sprinting for the door. "Stay behind me!"

Ada had absolutely no issue with sending him first, keeping close to his back as he threw the door open. Movement from in front of them caught her eye, and she yelled out a warning right as the guard raised his gun.

Thomas hesitated only for a moment before raising his own weapon and pulling the trigger. It was a clumsy shot, and the recoil sent him stumbling back and trampling all over her feet, but the bundle of electricity hit the guard square in the chest. He fell backwards with a garbled yell, clutching at his abdomen, and Ada watched with horror as his limbs began to spasm and seize uncontrollably.

So that was what a shot from those things did to a person. She prayed to never be on the receiving end of it.

Thomas stared down at the gun in shock. "Shit."

Ada stared up at him with wide eyes. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"Okay, okay we gotta go," Thomas started forwards again, moving awkwardly around the still-twitching body before them. "Let's go!"

Ada's legs were starting to ache, the strain from the last what seemed like forever catching up to her hard and fast, and she dreaded to think what pain Newt must have been in if she – someone who had run every single day for over two years – was hurting like she was.

He didn't utter a single complaint as he urged her along with his hand in hers, but she knew he had to have been hurting. His limp had gotten worse.

"Ada, where do we go?" Thomas asked.

Shit, she thought, because why the hell had she decided to offer directions?

Her eyes flitted around the hallway, taking in the rusted signs. They had come this way when they first arrived, she realised, tracking the corridors in her mind. To their right was the large storage room in which they had first entered, but that meant going through Janson and the guards and that really wasn't an option.

She tried to remember if there was another way to get to it, another way in.

"Ada?"

She shushed them, not knowing who had spoken, closing her eyes tight, picturing the storage room. She had been a wreck of nerves and adrenaline when they had first stumbled through the large doors, but she could have sworn she had spotted a large door to the left. One that led to the corridors just adjacent to the one they were currently standing in.

"Got it," she said excitedly, taking off in that direction. The others followed immediately, and she cast a frantic glance back to Thomas. "You still got that key card?"

"Of course," he scoffed, looking almost offended at the insinuation.

They rounded the corner, and Ada knew immediately that this was it. The long stretch of hallway came to an abrupt end, cut off with the shape of a large door, taking up the entire space of the wall. It was colossal in height, a threatening dark grey, and Ada could just about make out the shape of the key pad glinting in the harsh overhead lights.

"There it is!" Thomas yelled, clapping Ada on the back eagerly as he passed her, taking off at a full sprint to reach the steel rectangle.

The siren cut off abruptly with a harsh crackle, an unrecognisable male voice booming out over the speakers. "Coverage on Level Three. All R-16 personnel, non-lethal force only."

At least there's that, Ada thought bitterly, though she wasn't sure whether or not a bullet was preferable to the fate that awaited them should they not get through the door on time.

She skidded to a stop, hands slamming out to catch against the door, fingers scraping over the rough panel on the front. There was a small window stretching the length of the door at the top, and she craned her neck to peer out of it – the storage room that waited beyond was shrouded in almost complete darkness, but the hulking forms of boxes and crates were instantly recognisable.

She barely had a fleeting moment to appreciate the navigational skills running the maze for two years had given her before Thomas's alarmed cursing cut through the relief. The sound of low buzzing and the recurring red light coming from the keypad was akin to the reaper's scythe coming to claim them.

"What's going on?" She asked, peering anxiously over Frypan's shoulder.

"Come on, come on!" Thomas mumbled, frantically swiping the card again and again. The red light continued to flash, the words access denied mocking as they danced across the screen. "No, no, no!"

"Thomas!" Janson's voice was like cold water raining down on her, and Ada's head snapped to the end of the hallway.

He walked with the confidence of a man who knew he had won before the battle really began, and she was hit with the sudden urge to bury her scalpel as far as possible into his throat.

She would have had absolutely no issue carrying out that urge if it weren't for the alarming number of men blocking the hallway behind him – they moved forward as a unit, half of them holding guns and the other holding clear shields that completely covered the length of their bodies.

Someone must have told them Thomas had a gun, she realised. That, or they had seen the spasming body of the guard they had left behind.

Neither option was ideal.

"Oh fuck," she hissed, stepping backwards until her spine was pressed against the door.

Janson's eyes roved over them all eagerly, a feral beast stalking its prey, his arms raised in a futile impression of surrender. It was all an act, she could tell by the wicked gleam in his beady eyes. He had won, plain and simple, and was now simply toying with them before he went in for the kill.

Thomas stepped forward, gun raised, walking with shaky steps down the hallway. "Open this door, Janson!"

"You really don't want me to." He shook his head, smirking.

"Open the damn door!"

"Listen to me!" Janson yelled, the calm and collected facade cracking just long enough for Ada to make out the pure rage bubbling underneath. Minho shuffled next to her, grabbing the keycard from Frypan, swiping it over and over again with no success. "I'm trying to save your life."

Thomas continued to move forwards, further away from the group, his hands twitching around the gun.

"The maze is one thing," Janson continued, "but you kids wouldn't last one day out in the Scorch. If the elements don't kill you, the cranks will."

Ada felt bile rising steadily up her throat, and pressed a white-knuckled fist against her stomach to fight back the urge to vomit. The maze had been horrifying, each day and night coated in terror, each joyous and lighthearted moment shadowed by the threat of pain and death – the fact that Janson thought the outside world was worse than that had panic and dread pooling in her chest.

They couldn't stay here, she knew that much at least, but the truth was that they had absolutely no idea what it was they were walking into.

Images of mutilated bodies, cracked and garbled voices, gunshots and figures moving like ants in the black – they crept unwanted into the gaps in her mind.

Staying here was a fate cruel and horrible, but going out there? There was a very real possibility that none of them would walk away from it breathing.

"Thomas, you have to believe me," Janson's voice was soft and placating, honey over barbed wire, a blanket over glass. "I only want what's best for you."

Thomas was silent for a moment, and Janson took it as a clear invitation to lower his hands – he took a step forward, barely three feet away. Thomas took a shuddering breath, Ada could see it shake his shoulders. "Yeah, let me guess. WICKED is good?"

It was like a switch had been flicked. Any semblance of cordiality vanished in an instant, and Janson's entire frame went rigid.

Ada felt herself stiffen in response, her body screaming at her to run – run where? There was nowhere to run, they were trapped, no escape – only half aware of Minho swearing frantically under his breath as the key card failed to wield results.

Janson laughed, the sound sharp like a whip and echoing through the corridor. It rattled her bones, slid through her veins like ice. "You're not getting through that door."

As if the universe was determined to prove him wrong, the access panel lit up green with a high-pitched beep, the door rattling at her spine. Ada let out a rather undignified yelp as she scrambled away from it, staring wide eyed at Minho – but he wasn't looking impressed or relieved, as she had expected him to. Instead, he was staring down at the key card in utter confusion.

The door slid open, the alarm still blaring, and the lights in the storage facility were bright and shining. Winston and Aris stood on the other side, grinning, an unconscious guard at their feet.

Aris was holding something, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was, nor did she care as he grinned at them all and shot them an excited wave. "Hey guys!"

"What the fuck-"

"Come on!" Frypan yelled, darting forwards and into the relative safety of the other room.

"Thomas!" Newt yelled, placing his palm on Ada's back to urge her forwards and through the door. "Come on! Let's go!"

Ada glanced behind her, fingers tangling in Newt's shirt, but Thomas was too far away. He was still halfway up the corridor, and Janson's eyes had narrowed into beady slits revealing every ounce of hatred and fury he had tried previously to keep hidden.

"Come on, Greenie, move it!" She was back in the maze, standing with Minho at the end of that infernal corridor, watching the Griever chase Thomas full force down the rapidly closing passageway.

He had made it then, he could do it now. He had to.

Her grip on the scalpel was slippery, palm slick with sweat as she watched Thomas fire off whatever bullets remained in the gun. They bounced harmlessly off the shields, and Janson turned hurriedly to cower behind the guards as he lifted a walkie-talkie to his lips. She couldn't hear him from there, but she could see the exact moment Thomas started the panic.

He tossed the gun at Janson – Ada would have smacked him if she wasn't so worried about his safety – and took off full force towards the doors. Ada took a step forward to reach for him, but was wrenched back by Newt's arm clamping down around her waist as the door began its rapid descent. "Thomas!"

"No!"

"Come on, Thomas!"

"Run, Tommy!"

"Come on!"

Their shouts blended into a harsh cacophony of panic, growing louder and louder the closer the door sank to the floor.

Please, Ada begged to a God she wasn't sure she believed in, please, not him too, not another one.

Thomas threw himself to the ground, letting the momentum and slipperiness of the floors guide him, and cleared the exit with barely an inch to spare.

"Jesus Christ." Ada doubled over in relief, hands on her knees, grinning as Minho and Newt lunged forward to help Thomas to his feet. He was completely unharmed, if a little winded, and seemed awfully proud of himself as Janson lunged at the door, fists slamming against the glass pane. "You're the dumbest and luckiest shank I know."

"Don't I know it." Thomas grinned, pausing only to raise a pointed middle finger to where Janson seethed on the other side of the door.

"You little shit!" Janson's words were muffled through the glass, but his rage was undeniable.

"Antagonistic bastard," Ada scoffed at Thomas, but she didn't fight her smile as she squeezed his arm.

Aris darted forwards, using the large slab of metal in his hand to smash the keypad. A shower of sparks fizzled through the air and died, wires severing as the front panel clattered to the floor.

Winston moved quickly to the body of the guard, rifling frantically through his pockets to uncover the gun strapped to his waist. It was considerably smaller than the large weapons the other guards held, and she knew without doubt that it was loaded with real bullets.

It was a far better weapon than the scalpel she had tucked into her pocket.

Minho lunged forward, seizing a backpack carelessly discarded on one of the crates by the door, and shot them a fleeting grin as he took off running. "Come on, let's go!"

"Come on!"

Ada let out a slow breath as she wove her way between crates and boxes, towering high and loaded with all manner of things that would no doubt be useful where they were going. There wasn't time to grab anything, she knew, not with frantic footsteps echoing harshly from every direction and muffled cursing splitting the air around the still-wailing siren.

"Come on, keep moving!" Thomas yelled as they entered into the bulk of the room and there, right there, was the door.

Freedom was so close she could almost taste it, apprehension warring with adrenaline as she crashed through the open space, boots skidding on uneven ground, eyes locked on the gargantuan exit.

She spotted the handle immediately, barely sparing a moment to spy the arrow pointing to the right before she threw her full weight at the lever, pulling it down as far as it would go. Rust caked her fingertips like blood, staining her white shirt.

The doors creaked open, a blast of hot air and sand slamming into them, so eerily similar to the stale air and dust that greeted her each morning at the doors to the maze.

Thomas went first, then Minho, then Newt, swallowed up by the black abyss. The outside world was dark and terrifying, warm and suffocating, but she couldn't bring herself to care as she threw herself into the fog of sand.

Ada didn't look back once, and simply let the unknown claim her.